Lock In
by The Noble French Fry
Summary: Locked in, no room to separate, no room to escape. Only room to confess the bare truth. Yes, I am locking Hodgins and Angela in a closet. And proudly.


**Title:** Lock In**  
Fandom:** Bones**  
Summary:** Locked in, no room to separate, no room to escape. Only room to confess the bare truth.[Yes, I am locking Hodgins and Angela in a closet. And proudly.]**  
Spoilers:** well, early S4**  
Rating:** PG**  
Pairings/Characters**: Hodgins/Angela**  
Length:** 1,000 words**  
Genre:** angstiness for a bit, but dissolves into fluff**  
A/N:** Ah, thankest thou much-eth to lj-user buffyangellvr23, because she made this one happen. Her comment on A Weekend With(out) Zack was what made this happen. Slowly due to the stupidity of the muse, but made it happen nonetheless. And it ends up kind of AU, then, I think, to the way Hodgie and Angie are acting in the show.

* * *

When she came up to the supply closet, Hodgins was already there, looking for – well, she couldn't exactly tell what he was looking for, but he was looking diligently through the shelves for _something_. Even as she moved towards the closet herself, he moved further in, stretching towards a shelf that seemed to be out of his reach, even when he stood on his tip-toes.

Smiling, she came up behind him, and he remained oblivious to her presence, still stretching for that top shelf, until she said, "Need some help?"

At the sound of her voice, his feet fell back to the floor with a muted _thump_. Slowly, he looked back over his shoulder at her, his eyes slightly narrowed.

She'd wounded his pride, she knew. It didn't stop her from pressing into the closet behind him – snuggly; the closet was smaller than she thought it was – and reaching for the top shelf. With her heels on, it was a fairly easy reach –

And then she heard the door slide closed behind her with a click. She half-turned –

Hodgins pressed up against her, ducking under her arm as he pressed towards the door. He swore under his breath. "Automatic door," he grumbled. "It only opens from the outside."

She felt her jaw drop open, and not just from the mentally – but not _physically_ – uncomfortable sensation of having Hodgins so close to her. "You're _kidding_," she accused. "What's the purpose of having a supply closet that only opens from one side?"

"They probably figure nobody at the Jeffersonian's dumb enough to get themselves locked in a supply closet," he muttered.

"How do we get out of here?"

He grimaced. "We sit here and wait for somebody to come open up the door."

Angela groaned, leaning her head back against a shelf. Evidently, the designers' theory had just proven wrong. There _were_ people, even at the Jeffersonian, dumb enough to lock themselves in a supply closet. And, given that, with a door that only opened from the outside, she and Hodgins were at the mercy of the supply needs of the others beyond.

She sighed and shifted her position – tried, at least. She found out rather abruptly how little room there really was in the cramped supply closet. She found a very great percentage of herself pressed against Hodgins. The feeling was familiar, yet now uncomfortable. Her own urge to take it further fought her urge to twinge.

She forced her breath, however, to remain even. It, and Hodgin's slightly more ragged, irregular breathing were the only sounds to be heard for several long moments.

Finally, as the silence was becoming extremely awkward, he cleared his throat. "So… You and Roxy."

Her eyes snapped up to him, narrowing ever so slightly. "What about me and Roxy?" she asked sharply. Her defense-mode had kicked in rather abruptly.

"I was just going to ask how it's been going," he defended.

"Good," Angela replied reflexively. The silence settled again after her quick response, pressing on her until, with a sigh and a slight gritting of her teeth, she shook her head. "Well, no, honestly, it hasn't. I think we're drifting back towards just being friends. And have been for a while."

He blinked for a moment at that unexpected revelation. Then, he quietly muttered, "Oh. Sorry."

She shook her head again. "No, don't be. It was what it was." She surprised even herself by referring to "it" in the past-tense. She swallowed and raised an eyebrow at him. "So, what about you? Back in the dating ring yet?"

Hodgins pursed his lips. Then, almost reluctantly, he replied, "No, not really."

Something inside of her leapt at _that_ unexpected revelation, but externally, she raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

He looked as if he would have bolted in the opposite direction if that were at all possible. But no, they were trapped in here, this close, unable to run or hide. So a pained expression passed over his face and he quietly answered, "Because I don't think… no, I_ know _I'm not going to find anyone as perfect as you."

She was taken even more taken aback by _that_ revelation. A blush rose to her cheeks and now _she_ fought the urge to run in the opposite direction. She forced herself to swallow. "Sorry," she murmured quietly. She didn't know what else she could possibly say.

A slight, almost pained smile came to his face. "Don't be," he said. "You are what you are." He paused, and even more quietly, he added, "And we are what we are."

The note of sorrow in his voice tore at her heart, reopened a gaping hole inside of her that she'd been trying to stitch back together. Unbidden, she could feel the tears beginning to well up in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she muttered quietly.

He bit his lip, shifting his position slightly; he was now, probably not by design, even closer to her in the already tight space. "Yeah, me too," he responded.

Standing there, looking at him, Angela was suddenly overcome with the urge to hug him. And so she did; she sprang across the space between them and wrapped her arms around him. It was awkward in the small space, but it was worth it to have him that close. After a moment, he returned the embrace.

"What have we even been fighting about?" he asked quietly.

She laughed shortly. "I don't even remember," she admitted.

"Me neither," he responded. "But whatever it was, it wasn't worth it."

She shook her head. "No, it wasn't."

At that exact moment, the door slid open. Both Hodgins and Angela turned their heads to see a wide-eyed, startled-faced intern standing there. Neither of them, surprised in return at the interruption, had a chance to get a word off before the intern bubbled out a flustered, "Sorry!" And closed the door again. They could both hear him scrambling away on the other side of the door.

Both of them were silent for a second.

"Well," Hodgins said finally. "How long do you think it'll take them to realize we're _locked_ in the closet?"

Angela shrugged. "Who knows."

"Well. You want to make use of the time?"

Angela pulled back from him grinning. "Might as well," she responded before lowering her lips to his.


End file.
